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2013.12.31 - Parlour Tricks
All the forecasts are gloomy. Cloudy, overcast skies that threaten rain if not snow just past the New Year's mark. There's a certain chill in the air too- something that only lends those prognosticators of weather credence. (Don't encourage them!) At least the tourists, with their good cheer and all their Auld Lang Synes, having moved into the boroughs too deeply. This... this is where Loki can be found this day, walking the streets. He's dressed in a suit, again, with woolen coat wrapped about him, the collar turned up against the weather, a green and white scarf draped about his neck. With leather gloves on his hands, he walks with a cane in hand, blue eyes searching both the street before him, and the skies. Threaten Rain!? She's right here! ... and she does get threatened a lot, really, if not almost outright killed periodically. Being Silent Hill'd was a thing, too and she's still mildly phobic every now and then. But that is a story for another day. She's all bundled up as she walks along, trying to dodge tourists. She has a list of errands in front of her. A few are checked off, and her messenger bag seems laden full - more than usual. She passes by a cheery man, and nods politely. But then suddenly, A Wild Loki appears! "Oh. Er. Hello!" Polite nod. Best not to reveal too much, right? She's still socially awkward as ever. Finding a shapeshifter isn't the most difficult thing in the world to do. Having been one for over a century helps, sure, but Mystique is good at what she does out of principle. Tracking an Asgardian is a slightly different story. A twist of the variables, though nothing which she is not prepared for. Besides, Loki has Rain. It's like having a tell while playing cards, one which happens to be equipped with a flashing neon sign and accompanying fanfare. Really, all one need do is follow the Rain. But that would have been too easy. Today the metamorph has gone back to Tonya Harris, complete with green eyes, straight black hair, and a worn brown leather bomber jacket to compliment a pair of hiking boots. Some looks never go out of style. And, without warning, she's suddenly -right there- walking alongside the pair. "Someone oughta slap the back of that lovely little hand of yours, dear. Fortunately my afternoon is more open'n the weather today, so be out with it. What would have -possibly- possessed you to be so bloody juvenile?" Speaking to Loki, that is. Rain's actions are excused. For now. New York. Winter. A damned sight cheerier that winter in Kyiv. There's still a lot of work to be done over there, but... well, everyone's entitled to a bit of 'shore leave', right? Not, mind, that Olena particularly thinks of herself as a 'solider'. More... a freedom fighter. Today, however, the young Ukrainian steps out of an old pawnbroker's, package tucked uner her arm as she steps back out into the dismal weather. (Still cheerier than Kyiv.) She pulls a hood up around her dark hair and pauses to one side of the door, tasting the movement of the street, absorbing its sights and sounds. Establishing equalibrium. Reveal too much? What? Loki's New York City walk leaves much to be desired. Everyone knows never, ever look in the sky as if one is in awe of the majesty that is... Queens? There are a couple of spires and not too sucky looking apartment complexes? Coming across Rain is fortuitous, to say the least, and he reaches out to grab his apprentice and pull her closer, his voice low, "Does this bazaar visit any other realm?" Loki doesn't bother trying to pretend that he doesn't have the the girl with him, possibly under duress, depending upon her reaction. The next arrival does bring something of a surprised expression to his face, but it's fleeting. That wall closes, and blue eyes narrow as he looks to the side to study the person speaking to him. "I confess I have no idea what it is you're talking about," comes evenly before a flash of anger shows through. Still, his tones remain composed, if only for the moment. "Who do you think you are... 'juvenile'. Do you have any idea who I am?" The departing Olena doesn't attract attention for the moment... not yet, at least. Poor Rain. She's normally pretty ordinary, unless one is aware of her connections or senses her nature. But she is unable to hide her aura and she definitely can't just stuff the Loki in her messenger bag. And she has a talent for being forgotten. But not today. She pauses, as she's pulled closer, eyes widening. Her poker face would bring shame to Lady Gaga. Seriously, how is she - HIS apprentice with her poker face? How does that even work? But she is good at what sneakiness she does have. Still, she pauses and nods. She's a bit surprised, but not too alarmed. If an Asgardian wanted her dead, it'd be over in about .005 seconds. Squishing a mortal hardly offers a challenge. She speaks softly, murmuring. "Some, yes. Not this one usually, unless a tear or spillover happens," She explains. And then - there's a lady (she's a laaaaaaaaady! - Curse you, rock and roll!). In a bomber jacket. Rain lifts a polite hand in greeting. "Um. Hello there." Olena gets a curious glance. Is that someone from - no wait, no. Hmm. Well, that'd be easier to remember if it were a circuit or part. Oh well. And it's still cheerier than Kyiv one supposes. "I know exactly who you are," Tonya replies. In Loki's own voice. "Frankly, I'm also highly disappointed." Another effortless shift returns the proper voice to Mystique's character of the day, neatly motioning onward with a purely innocent smile. "Walk with me, darling. And by all means, bring along your adorable little friend," she encourages with a passing of that smile back to Rain. It seems as though she has an adorable little friend of her own stepping out of a nearby shop. How convenient and completely unexpected. Here Tonya begins walking again, not waiting for Loki and Rain to follow. She just slighted the God and didn't explain why, then copied his voice right in front of him. He would either follow or find some means of forcing her to stop. Either are acceptable. Pride. It's a sin, and also highly useful for manipulation. Oh yes, and very entertaining. Now, Olena doesn't know all of Mystique's aliases and cultivated faces, though she knows a few. But, the switch of 'Tonya's' tenor from the English to the Asgardian and back is enough to bring her considerable attention around. Hyperperceptive, the young archer is. Quick-minded, too. The strut, the pride, the feigned innocence... Tells, each and every one of them. So, yes. Olena, who's more familiar with the metamorph than others, pegs Mystique fairly quickly. She adjusts her package under her arm, wry smile and faint sigh hidden beneath her hood, and steps away from the store, parallelling the other trio. For now, anyway. Now Loki's got a hold of Rain, not letting her go as he gains the desired information. If he doesn't catch the bazaar here, he can catch it on some other world... somewhere a little more receptive, perhaps. It'll do. 'Tonya' has indeed just slighted a god, and rather than walking, Loki plants his feet in the sidewalk as it were, and extends the hand that holds his cane. There, Tonya will feel a tug, that feeling that the air she is walking through has just turned to molasses, something a great deal thicker and a great deal more difficult to move forward in. The only path where the lack of density lies is, remarkably, back to him. Add to that the 'tug' that draws strength that seeks to pull her back? "Then you know that it is folly to mock me," is seethed. Now, his tones turn a little airy, but hold that steel beneath them as each word is enunciated, "You little, naive creature. I know your kind," he begins again from his spot on the sidewalk. "There are always those who think they can best a god with little parlour tricks." Rain pauses. Blink. Blink blink. She rubs the back of her head. She smiles politely. "Thank you." Aw. She's cute. Rain'll totally take that! Why not? Rain seems less bothered, but then - she was homeless and she's heard a lot of slights in her time. Or maybe there's some truth to some of them. Whatever. She glances over, uncertain. Parallel lines are a sad story in a way. Two lines, forever and eternal, who will never meet. Just you and you, always and then. When does helplessness start and frustration end? Those two lines wouldn't tell, hoping onward. But Rain just lets herself stay right where she is, not squirming away if she's still held onto. There's a great deal of humility and acceptance. At least he's not hitting her with a bus (alarmingly low standards?). Though, she does seem to care about her mentor - just in her own way and with always the minding that she could get sent into orbit on a whim. Or something equally hilarious. She seems uncertain of what to offer as the words play out between Tonya and Loki. And how's about a little demonstration of the man's power? Tonya's grinning at the trick, able to appreciate it for what it is (or might be,) while filing away the knowledge that this is another sort of stunt that Loki's got at his disposal. "Anyone can mock," she offers while turning around, in no hurry to step any closer. "I am here to guide. Though, one matter to address first." It's only once she returns to stand before Loki, and quite closely, that green eyes melt away into solid yellow. One singular voice drifts into two distinctly separate tones, covering both high notes and low. "You may know my kind, but you do not know me, whether 'little' or 'naive.'" In saying this she's given herself plenty of time to morph a tail out of the base of her spine, attempting to draw it around so that she might thwap the God across the back of his head with a spaded tip. "Parlour tricks are for the foolish and inexperienced, such as playing a children's game in the Manhattan streets. Have you -no- pride? All of this power and you choose to practice valet parking! I have absolutely no desire to waste my time in a battle of power, clearly you do not know how to wield that which you have been given. My dear delinquent, I come forth with an offer." Olena ghosts parallel to the three for a few more steps. She can't sense magic. That's for other people. But, she can sense changes in the air currents, which means that, while she doesn't know exactly what the Asgardian (whom she doesn't have nearly enough experience to recognize as such) is doing, nor how, she can at least sense the physical change in the environment it brings. Casually, hands shoved in her pockets, she turns down a side alley and takes to the fire escapes, climbing with swift agility toward the roof, and a better vantage point. Her package gets shoved deep into her pocket as she reaches into the back of her jacket for something else. A demonstration? That is considered his own version of a parlour trick. Something learned as a child. After all, even cantrips can have a purpose, yes? Loki watches as the mutant begins that slow, deliberate turn around, and a smile begins to rise, to crease his expression. There's no humour that lies within, though; those blue eyes are veiled to his thoughts, and it's a good thing they are. The pressure of his hold subsides on Rain in preference in having both hands free. Ish. He does still have his cane, after all. Loki waits for Mystique to approach, and the shift of her own eyes to solid, featureless yellow eyes brings something of a smirk from the smile. "There you are," he whispers, meaning sitting heavily upon the tenor of his voice. "I was wondering--" and the moment the tail comes around to hit him, he reaches around to grab it with lightning speed. Should she try to pull it back into her body, she'll find-- She can't. Instead, what Mystique will feel is a forcing of a shapeshifting to her 'normal' self.. with tail. And it may not be very pleasant as bone and sinew is forcibly turned should she resist. And if she doesn't? Well, it'll still be more than a little uncomfortable... because the God of Tricks demands it. "I don't have to explain why I do anything to you... oh, what a lovely shade of blue you are." Loki pauses before he makes a show of letting the tail drop from his hands. "Clearly, I do... though, I'd be interested in hearing what you have to offer me." Rain's eyes widen. "Um." She looks worried about the lady who shapeshifts, unaware of her past, name or reputation. She's apparently - startled, putting a hand over her mouth. Eyes still wide as saucers. She doesn't bolt away though, and a part of her feels a bit unhappy at her own cowardice. That's a flaw to fight another day. But she is quiet. "Well, it is a nifty shade of blue but -" Rain does think it's pretty cool, but she's just - worried. Now. Either way. Shifting. Mystique's been doing it for countless decades. She's experienced it in every way one might be able to, having had nothing but time to hone such an ability. Having someone else do the shifting -for- her... That's never been one of those things. It's not comfortable, if the faint gasp of surprise, the widening of yellow eyes, and the tensing of various muscles throughout her form are any indication. Of course she pushes back, she's still seeing what this creature is capable of. The part which Loki may not be as aware of is that she's no stranger to absolute power. She had held a relationship with the Devil, himself! As a demonstration of ability, it succeeds. As something meant to be painful, it succeeds. As something meant to scare or intimidate her, it fails. In truth, Raven's quite well enjoying the moment. "Only the loveliest," she replies in that same duo-toned voice, spoken through a sly grin which is only partly forced. Then, freed from Loki's hold, she remains there in the blue. Red hair, yellow eyes. A tail borrowed from Azazel, himself. Frankly, she could care less if half of the country spotted a wanted terrorist standing right there in Queens. It would only serve to provide further entertainment, for all of them. As for her offer? "A link," she replies with that sly grin still in place. "You do not yet know this world as I do, and you will be challenged to find another whom has shared my time and experience. Why be enemies when we might be something ..so much more?" More, like all of the things, considering they can both shapeshift at will. Olena eases a small, but surprisingly powerful (thanks to a mutant tinker she knows) suppressed pistol out of her jacket, sitting in the cover of the building's crenolations. She doesn't aim it, watching the conversation below, sharp ears able to hear it over the noise of the street. As the so-called god forces the Queen of Genosha to revert (mostly) to her natural state, the hyperperceptive still waits to see how everything unfolds. It doesn't do, after all, to underestimate Mystique -- nor to interrupt her 'games', unless strictly necessary. And... oh. Yes, it does appear Mystique is enjoying herself. Right. The archer leans back against a retaining wall and simply watches. When it seems like they'll all need to get a room somewhere, well... She'll excuse herself from that, thanks. So she fishes something else out of her pocket, too. A small, hardened, bluetooth headset, which she opens and fits to an ear. Then, she slides a smartphone from her pocket and keys the speed dial for the Genoshan Embassy. Oh no, Rain... don't leave. It'd be like having a prowling lion catch sight of movement in the grasses! Loki can feel the resistance course throughout the mutant's body. The forcing of a will to shift, the muscles contorting as bone is reshaped and reset, those tendons reconnecting at the very basic of levels. He can also feel that pleasure that courses through Mystique, and as his hand opens and the tail flows out of his palm, his gaze is locked firmly upon the now blue form. Leaning forward, his voice is an intimate whisper in her ear, "If your friend on the roof does anything, I will kill her." Straightening from his lean once again, Loki looks oh-so-very casual, his expression set to one of amiable conversation, and at the offer? Brows quirk, and his mouth opens slightly before he rolls his head back to study those empty yellow eyes. "I will, will I? Such a willing offer. And what do you see that you stand to gain, hmmm?" Loki is on the move again, but this time it's simply to circle the lovely blue mutant, his gaze set firmly upon his quarry. "I will admit to wanting one or two that would stand with me," and here, the smile creeps once again, "for my purpose..." Rain's - not silly enough to leave. She is worried, and sympathetic. there's a twinge of guilt for just being a bystander. On the other hand, even if she did something - what if she's wrong and just gets splattered? She still has wide-eyes and is an audience. Yup. Not gonna bolt, even if she'd like very much to. Here Mystique looks more indifferent than anything, the warning not seeming to bother her all that much. "That would be her mistake to make." She never asked Olena to take up position, nor to ready a weapon. However, she also has confidence in the younger mutant. She's not likely to do something so foolish. And if she does? That's Darwinism for you. Yellow eyes narrow to fairly content slits as she dips her head from side to side, slowly rolling her shoulders as though she had just stepped away from a good massage. "An end to the plague that is humanity, with any luck," she truthfully answers. There is more to her response however, hands folded back to behind her neck as that golden stare drifts back to the Trickster as he orbits around her. He might happen to have a tail brush against him somewhere along that idle pacing of his, too. "And you seem to know how to have a good time, at the expense of others. Defeating boredom is as worthy a cause as any." When villains collide. It's all about the mutual manipulation, after all. Each using the other until that one electric moment when someone goes for first blood. "Your companion is looking nervous," she adds in a distant lilt, languidly drifting her attention back over to Rain. And Olena's probably enjoying the show. No. Olena's no fool. She's not intervening. The weapon? Habit. Self-defence, even. 'Cause, she's seen what happens when Mystique starts to play. It usually ends in bloodshed. Lots and lots of bloodshed. Loki? She doesn't know a damned thing about him -- other than his choice of cologne, perhaps. Okay. Perhaps if Mystique looked more distressed and less... turned on? (OY!) Perhaps then she'd more inclined to actually sight down the barrel. As it is, however, she's content to speak softly into her headset. "Just do what I say," she says with a brief sigh to the mutant on the other end of the line. "Have triage standing by. And good PR team. The Imperator will thank you, later." Or he won't. What does she care? Loki actually chuckles as Mystique sets her minion out to dry, as it were. He doesn't need to look to see where Olena is. Not anymore. There is nothing, really, that the girl can do to him (he believes), and so ignores her for the moment. With each step, he watches each flicker of muscle, each involuntary movement, the way the wind takes the wisps of that red hair. Loki feels the brush of tail, and his smile lifts such that it's a touch lopsided for a fleeting moment. It is true. Mutual manipulation. And in the end, it is a solo run to the finish. "The plague of humanity," he whispers as he comes back front. "They were made to be ruled. That is the natural order, their reason to exist." Loki raises a hand, "What good to rule a desolate world?" There is a pause before he takes a breath, the action causing him to straighten, and he sounds so very matter of fact. Conversational, as if the content of which they speak is of little consequence. "I will accept your service..." Beat. "I'm sorry... what is your name?" Rain's more guilty about her lack of involvement, but she has no horse in the race. The manipulation is mutual and well, she's not so great at it. Rain's just going to stay over here, relieved no one is being maimed or whatever. She looks apologetic as someone mentions she looks nervous. Well, Rain is positively soft and squishy. She's usually loathe to cause suffering unless someone is actively attacking and needs to be newted or set on fire. Accept her 'service.' A telling way to get the point across, one which is not ignored. This god standing before Raven may have her bested when it comes to power, but she has tricks of her own. Tugging on the various strings behind the scenes is something she happens to be quite good at. He's welcome to believe it however he likes, at the end of the day she'll know the score. There's something about that final question which only further amuses her, a blue hand reaching up to lightly trace the side of Loki's face. He knows 'all about her,' yet the woman behind the blue remains a great unknown. "Mystique." Looks like she can mark 'seduce an Asgardian God' off of her bucketlist. It's good to have the bar set high. "Now then," she says before morphing herself back into being purely incognito Tonya, "there are much more enjoyable ways to have New York's Finest on our case, mmh?" As Mystique morphs casually back into Tonya, Olena... well, actually, she relaxes. As much as she ever does, anyway. She slides the pistol back into its holster and rolls to her feet, padding lightly back toward the fire escape. She checks the time on her phone and snirks softly. A quick swing over the side of the building and she's making her way back down to the street, ready to head back the opposite way. As Mystique morphs casually back into Tonya, Olena... well, actually, she relaxes. As much as she ever does, anyway. She slides the pistol back into its holster and rolls to her feet, padding lightly back toward the fire escape. She checks the time on her phone and snirks softly. A quick swing over the side of the building and she's making her way back down to the street, ready to head back the opposite way. Loki always chooses his words carefully. It's something he's always prided himself on, and something others have relied upon. Couple that with the fact that he was born a Prince, raised a Prince of Asgard, and there are certain expections, certain conceits that are always there. He smiles at the gesture, the touch of fingers upon his face, and his hand strikes to take hold of her own and he quirks his head. Familiarity... tsk. "Mystique. Very mysterious." Letting go of the hand once again as she shifts back to a more normal, human form, Loki takes a step back and checks for his apprentice. "I would have you come visit me later, Rain. We will speak more of this bazaar," before his attention swings back around to the blue mutant in human skin. "Your New Year is coming, after all..." His apprentice is indeed here. Rain's not about to get ended over something like that. She seems surprised by how the exchange turned out. Mystique. Okay, then. She just goes with it. A nod to Loki. "Sure thing. I'll finish my errands, then." She relaxes a little now, then. But she's still, thanks to having been homeless for a long time, a little uneasy about being about with cops around. Whatever the score is, she goes with it. There are some things which are going to happen solely because Mystique wishes them to. She is not going to become just another resource to be thrown about and kept at arm's length. Here, Loki will come to appreciate such a sense of familiarity. The expression 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' never holds more true than when dealing with someone that happens to be more powerful. "A bazaar?" she inquires with a wicked glint in her masked eyes. "Sounds like a positively lovely time." As Rain makes her exit she does so with an unblinking golden gaze following her, the metamorph's amusement still confidently in place. "Indeed it is," she confirms as her attention slides back onto Loki, after subtly checking up above for Olena. Having featureless eyes really helps out in looking about on the sly. "Shall we prepare for our next lap around the sun?" Olena emerges from the alley, hands shoved back into her pocket, head covered by that hood, again. She doesn't spare Mystique another glance. The metamorph has played her game, and her audience. The only other thing the mutant archer does before she moves on is tell the Embassy to stand down... and take her bluetooth from her ear. She's got more important things to deal with than all this. Category:Log